Dead Men Tell no Tales(Usually)
by Watermelonsmellinfellon
Summary: Little Harry Potter finds himself with the strange ability to live out a ghost's memory. Is it just the one, or can others do it too? He'll find out eventually.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello, people!**

 **I don't own Harry Potter.**

 **ENJOY!**

 **CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON. I FOLLOW BACK.**

 **QLFC Round: 13**

 **Team: Ballycastle Bats**

 **Position: Seeker**

 **Prompt: Some real world history. T** **he destruction of a vessel/aircraft.**

 **Chapter Length: 1,335 words.**

* * *

"So… you're dead?"

Harry was staring at what he supposed was a ghost. Silvery, transparent, and only he could see it. Him. Them. Whatever a ghost was called when they were dead. It wasn't like they were the actual person, so did ghosts even have genders?

Said ghost, who had introduced themself as 'John', was regarding the boy carefully.

They were dressed in incredibly old fashioned clothing. Or what Harry would consider to be old because he was just ten, but still. To be honest, Harry was appalled, and he didn't even _have_ any sense of fashion.

"What can I do for you, John?"

"I need someone to hear my story," the ghost said, having already decided that they were going to go through with whatever they were planning, whether Harry agreed to it or not.

Harry decided that if he was having strange visions or odd dreams, then he should just let it all happen anyway. Fighting certainly wasn't going to help him in a time like this. Besides, ghosts couldn't die and they couldn't be stopped form going places because they floated through things, so if he didn't want to be stalked for a dead person, it was best to let them do as they pleased.

"Let me take you back to a time, where Muggles seemed to be a bit more aware of the strange things happening in the world.

"It was 1912, April fourteenth. I and my sister had confunded some Muggles into letting us aboard their massive ship. It was rumored to be the largest in the world after all. 'Unsinkable' they called it."

Harry was still caught up over what the bloody hell a 'muggle' was. But the ghost did not deem him worthy of knowing because they were just going on and on about this great boat.

"It was a beauty, I must admit. Sometimes the magicals don't understand just how much the Muggles are capable of. Even without magic of their own, they manage to craft such amazing structures, and this one had looked as if it would be unstoppable.

"They were wrong."

Harry wasn't sure if he was meant to be listening to the tale about the boat, or contemplating that fact that the ghost was talking about magic. As if magic was real. Uncle Vernon did not believe in such things and expressly forbade Harry from even thinking about it. He wouldn't even let Dudley read any 'fantasy' novels because they might 'infect his normal brain'.

And the ghost was still talking.

"The only way you'll truly understand the chaos that reigned that evening, is if you feel it yourself, lad."

Harry had been too busy considering the possibility of magic, to realise just what the ghost was planning until it was too late. Something cold washed over his skinny body and he shivered at the unexpected chill running down his spine.

' _Just be patient, and let me show you,_ ' the ghost's voice sounded in his head, loud and ringing.

Harry stumbled forward, and found the ground rushing toward his face.

* * *

The lights were bright.

He looked around, finding himself lying on a sofa, in a room far too nice to be anything that the Dursley's owned.

"John, come and see the water with me!"

Harry's head turned, without his permission, to see the face of a little girl in an old dress, bouncing beside the sofa. She looked ready to burst from excitement.

Harry's mouth opened - once again without his permission - and he responded in a voice that was not his own, "Calm down, Penelope. Give me a moment to right myself."

Harry's body rubbed its eyes and then stood. The boy resigned himself to the realisation that he was not in control of what was going on.

In fact, everything seemed strange. Grey and dark, almost as if something bad was going to happen. Or _had_ happened.

Penelope tugged him out the door and he'd only just managed to grab a key on the way out.

The corridors were lavishly decorated and Harry was impressed. It was something that Aunt Petunia would be envious of.

A few minutes of walking had brought them to another corridor that was actually filled with people. Harry took note of how no one looked in their direction as they walked past. Almost as if no one could see them. Strange.

It was while they were on their way up a flight of stairs, that something shook the entire corridor, causing several people to tumble down the stairs or fall over the railing.

When the shaking stopped, Harry found that Penelope was missing from the stairs, in which he had been clinging to the railing. All around him were shocked murmurs and pained whinges of people. Everyone all shared the same bewildered look however.

Righting himself, Harry looked for the little girl, and found her at the bottom of the stairs, struggling to stand. She was crying.

He rushed to her side and withdrew a stick from his trouser pocket? What the bloody hell was a stick going to do in a time like this?

"Episkey!" he said, and the unnatural bend of the girl's nose righted itself instantly. She screamed and clutched her face in response to the action.

He shushed her quietly, looking around at the panicking people who were running up and down the corridor and yelling out questions and random insults as they tried to shove past one another.

"Come!" he ordered, lifting her into his arms and dashing past the growing horde of people as they fought to make it down the corridor.

A shrill alarm filled the entire area and a loud voice proceeded to demand that all 'first class passengers' make their way to the lifeboats.

Harry didn't fully understand what was going on, but he knew that people only fled to lifeboats if the boat was sinking.

He ran down grey corridors, and shoved past faceless people.

Harry broke through the open door and found people struggling on the deck, crying and screaming for any kind of salvation.

Penelope's arms around his neck were a harsh reminder of the situation at hand, and he pushed off.

"I'm scared!" she whimpered.

Harry didn't say anything. He didn't even know what should be said in a situation like this. The boat was actually tilting over!

"John, I'm sc-"

It went black.

* * *

Harry awoke suddenly, and found himself lying in the grass in the backyard of the Dursley's home. He sat up, gripping his chest in an attempt to slow the beating of his excited heart.

"Yes, it was terrible," a familiar voice said.

He looked over, finding 'John' the ghost, floating beside him.

"Our parents had always told us to stay safe and not go where we weren't allowed. They had forbade us to leave the house, but I had decided that we should go out anyway, and look at what happened.

"We died on the Titanic. My foolishness caused it."

Harry winced and realised that he had been forced to somehow view that ghost's memory of the incident. And it was terrible to consider.

"So many people died that night," said John. "Fortunately, we died first, before having to witness it all. A swift death was a mercy."

Placing a ghostly hand on Harry's head, John smiled. "Thank you for listening, little wizard. Death chose well."

John then faded from view, leaving Harry to stare at the tree that had been behind them.

All he could think was… ' _Wizard_?'.

* * *

A few months later, Harry found himself sitting on a train, ready to attend a magical school because he was a wizard.

His first order of business, was to find out if ghosts could possess people and make them see their memories.

And if they couldn't, what did that mean for him?

* * *

 **A/N: DONE!**

 **How was it? Let me know!**

 **Check out my other fics.**

 **See ya!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello, people!**

 **I don't own Harry Potter.**

 **I have no beta.**

 **ENJOY!**

 **CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON. I FOLLOW BACK.**

 **-This is just a Harry fic. I have turned so many ideas into Tomarry/Harrymort that I think this will just be adventure/humor. Not romance-centric in the least.**

 **-Sorry if you were looking for Slash.**

 **-Harry won't be a Gryffindor.**

 **-There's a little interesting bit about him, if no one noticed.**

* * *

Harry was wary of everything. While magic sounded awesome and he wanted to know more and more about everything, he still found himself retreating just a bit.

Hagrid had been a nice bloke, but he seemed a little… unsafe. Or just not as in tune with his self-preservation than others would be.

Harry had been wary the moment the man had bent a shot gun into a knot without an issue, and then 'cursed' someone's child simply because they bad mouthed some old man from a school.

Do not insult Albus Dumbledore in front of Rubeus Hagrid. He got that the first time and looked for no repeat warnings.

After that, he had quietly let the man do the explaining, proving that there was magic, that Harry was actually special, and that his parents weren't degenerates. If he could push aside the minor terror at what the large man was capable of, Harry could admit to being excited.

His encounter with the ghost had been real and not some weird dream he'd had because he'd fainted from exhaustion and overheating. That meant that ghosts were real along with magic and other stuff.

And Hagrid had told him that 'Muggles' were non-magical folk. So 'John' and his sister Penelope had sneaked onto the Titanic with their magic, and ended up dying. Harry saw it as a karma thing, what goes around comes around. They broke the rules, and most likely the law, and got killed.

Sad, yes, but truth nonetheless.

Still, Harry now had a personal mission to meet as many ghosts as possible and ask if they could do the same thing, or if 'John' was simply special in terms of specters.

The Hogwarts Express was large and comfortable on the inside. Harry had managed to find his way onto the train by himself, though it was done mostly by watching others and mimicking their actions. The Barrier had been an interesting touch, though he wondered what kind of magic made the 'Muggles' outside not notice a thing going on around them.

Harry was pushing a trolley and a bloody owl for God's sake. That kind of thing would draw attention, wouldn't it?

His wand was in his pocket, ready to be used when he felt the need to use it. He'd already changed into his robes, because he was excited.

 _Hogwarts: A History_ said that the colours of the trimming would change the moment that he was sorted in his House.

The four Houses were Gryffindor for the brave and daring, meaning not him. Hufflepuff for the kind and hardworking, which _could_ be him. Ravenclaw for the intelligent and witty, which also could be him. And then Slytherin, for the cunning and ambitious, which kind of was him.

Harry had much ambition, though probably not the same that Slytherins were known for. And he was hard-working, but not willingly. It was something drilled into him from years of chores that he shouldn't have had to do. He was smart for certain, though he wondered it he was smart enough for Ravenclaw.

Basically, he seemed to fit everywhere but the Gryffindor House.

Harry fidgeted and withdrew his wand from his robe pocket.

In the memory, John had used something called, ' _Episkey_ ' and it made his little sister's nose straighten, from where it had been broken. Magic was awesome.

He wondered if there was a spell to fix his glasses.

He hadn't gotten a chance to go back to Diagon Alley since Hagrid had dropped him back off at the Dursleys. There was so much that he wanted to get!

New clothing, glasses, more books on certain subjects. Though he had managed to pick up a Owl Order Subscription for several shops in Diagon Alley, so if he wanted something that he didn't need to get fitted, he could just order it with the owl Hagrid had given him.

From reading his book for History of Magic, Harry plucked the name Hedwig out of the pages because it sounded cool. He then looked it up at the local library and found that it was very convenient. That Saint Hedwig had been a patron to orphans. How strange that Harry should choose such a name for his companion.

Harry stood and reached for the bag he'd brought on board. There were some books inside, ones that he'd managed to grab at the last second.

Flourish and Blotts sold the school year book in large piles, so all someone had to do was say 'first year curriculum' and the person behind the register would simply have to levitate the stack of already prepared books, from one place to another.

Hagrid didn't seem to fancy books much, so Harry had just grabbed things while walking by.

Harry's wand was still warm to the touch. He wondered if that was normal for every wizard. It felt like the wood was trying to hug his hand, if that made any sense.

Holly, Phoenix Feather, and eleven inches long. It was a pretty piece of wood, carved very nicely, he'd admit. He wondered what other wands looked like. Hagrid didn't use a wand, he used an umbrella - strange, yes - and then admitted that he shouldn't be doing magic at all.

Ollivander, the man who had made and sold Harry's wand, said that Hagrid's had been broken. Why? What did he do that deserved his magical focus to be destroyed? Should Harry be even more wary than before?

Some would say that he was being too cautious, but Harry did not believe in 'too much caution'. He believed in safety first and foremost. That was why he was so good at fleeing from danger the moment it cropped up. Harry was not one to stick around if his health was on the line. Not for anyone or anything.

Besides, it wasn't like he _had_ anyone or anything to worry about anyway.

"Excuse me," a timid voice said from the doorway.

Harry looked over, finding a stout blond peeking around the corner of the sliding door.

"Yes?" he asked, remembering that while he was skeptical of everyone, that didn't mean he had to be rude.

"May I sit with you? Some of the other students make me… uncomfortable."

Why the kid would even admit something like that to a stranger, Harry didn't know, but he didn't seem too annoying, so Harry waved him inside.

"Thanks," the boy murmured and seated himself across from Harry. "I'm Neville Longbottom."

Longbottom was on the Sacred Twenty-Eight List. Harry's family was also on the list(the extended, 'once Pureblooded' part), though in recent years it had been crossed out with a green line. Not red like some of the others, though there was no explanation on the differences.

He'd find out later. Hogwarts apparently had Magical Britain's largest library.

"I'm Harry Potter," said the brunet cautiously, watching for any kind of reaction, and he got one, though it wasn't what he expected.

He thought Neville would begin to fawn over and praise him like many other creepy people had. Instead, the boy turned a bright shade of red and seemed to be looking around for a way to escape.

"Are you well?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"Fine!" Neville squeaked.

"You sure?"

Neville gave a twitchy nod, and Harry disposed of any worry that the boy was a fame-monger. He seemed barely capable of keeping himself upright, let alone of sound enough mind to try to creep his way into Harry's favour.

Neville suddenly bolted for the door, wailing, 'I lost Trevor!' as he went.

Harry didn't know what that was about, but he got up and shut the door anyway. The boy would be back eventually. He'd left his bag on the floor after all.

Sighing, Harry relaxed once more and began to peruse his book for a way to fix his glasses. They were really quite awful.

* * *

 **A/N: Another is done!**

 **Which House should Harry be sorted into? And Gryffindor will not count for this!**

 **Ravenclaw**

 **Hufflepuff**

 **Slytherin**

 **?**

 **How was it? Let me know!**

 **Check out my other HP fics!**

 **See ya! :D**

 **CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON. I FOLLOW BACK.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello, people!**

 **I don't own Harry Potter.**

 **I have no beta.**

 **ENJOY!**

 **CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON. I FOLLOW BACK.**

* * *

Hogwarts was as massive at the book stated it was. Harry found himself wondering if the Founders had actually built it themselves, or it they simply found it and decided to take it for themselves. There was nothing about that in _Hogwarts: A History_.

About a thousand years of magic had been through the building. Just what kind of things had happened inside? Things no one knew about because there were no witnesses?

Hagrid led the first years across the Black Lake in boats large enough to fit four at a time. Neville had managed to make his way back to the compartment, followed by a brunette with large hair and teeth. They'd been on the search for the boy's toad, and hadn't found him.

Harry surmised that 'Trevor' was the toad.

The entire ride, the girl talked their ears off and then reprimanded them for getting so many sweets when the trolley Witch came by with food. But it wasn't as if she was selling sandwiches, so it wasn't like they were able to purchase anything besides teeth rotting confections.

Anyway, the way across the lake was interesting, and everyone marvelled at the sight of the castle and the starry sky just behind it. It was a - if the pun could be excused - magical sight.

Hagrid left them in the hands of one Minerva McGonagall, who was the Deputy Headmistress as well as the Head of Gryffindor House and the Transfiguration Professor. Harry wondered just how she managed to keep up with the duties from all three jobs.

She left them in the Entrance Hall to smarten themselves up before she returned. The 'Sorting Ceremony' would begin in a few moments.

It was then that several silvery figures simply floated through the walls.

They were all conversing with one another, or at least had been. As if chained to something, the ghosts all stopped suddenly, like they had been forcefully pulled back from continuing any further. Then, as one body, the seven figures floating a far enough distance away, turned and faced Harry.

Their silvery eyes latched onto his small frame and they all glided closer.

The other students squealed and backed away. Neville was unfortunate enough to have a ghost float directly through him. The look on his face was priceless.

Harry found himself surrounded by dead spirits who all looked at him with wide-eyed expressions. He didn't know why, seeing as he was just a child. But they seemed to see something about him that was different than the others. Much like John had. What was it?

For a moment, the silence was tense, before a loud clearing of a throat sounded.

The ghosts turned and fled as one unit, not bothering to look at anyone as they left.

Professor McGonagall stood there, staring at the wall the beings had flown through, face pinched in displeased confusion. Harry could only agree. He didn't even _want_ to begin guessing about what had just transpired,

"We're ready for you now," McGonagall said at last, and order them to line up in two, single file lines. 'No pushing or shoving' was allowed either.

The Great Hall was as grand as the book described it was. He found himself curious over how all of the candles managed to produce enough light to make the entire room as bright as it was. There had to be something else at play. There weren't that many candles after all. And why wasn't there any wax dripping on the students' heads?

The Deputy lead them down the main aisle, past staring faces.

Harry hunched in a bit closer to the person at his side, Hermione Granger, and reached up to pat his hair down.

The shoulder-length black strands sought to defy gravity, but he wasn't about to let that happen. Not now. Not here of all places. Also, he didn't want anyone to see his scar. He had the standard haircut for 'rebellious boys' his age.

Partially swept into his eyes with a fringe, and curling up from where it randomly stuck out. Harry wasn't the sort to straighten his hair though, which was why it was a glorious mess. Not that he minded much, but he was sort of wishing he's scooped up some of the lake water and went over his head with it.

Students whispered to each other and some pointed, giggling at the first year students.

Harry rolled his eyes at the annoying sight of them.

The 'Sorting Hat' as McGonagall called it, was tattered and old. It could probably use a good wash as well.

No matter that it sang - though seriously, what sort of magic went into that kind of enchantment? - it looked disgusting and Harry didn't not want it on his head. Also, his hair and hats did not mix well. Not in the least.

Another thing that bothered him, was the whole Hat being able to see into his head. What did that mean and what was it going to be 'seeing'? It had no eyes, so it wasn't like it could actually see things. Right?

Names were called left and right. Granger went to Gryffindor. Neville was sorted into Hufflepuff. The Malfoy bloke Harry had met in Diagon Alley went to Slytherin. Harry's name came several moments later, after a blonde who was sorted into Hufflepuff.

"Potter, Harry."

The entire Hall went as silent as Death. He refused to look around at the staring faces, and simply made his way to the gross object that had probably touched too many heads. Could it spread lice by any chance?

' _How dare you!_ ' a ringing voice called out in his mind, making him wince at the tone and volume.

' _I happen to be a priceless artifact that once belonged to Godric Gryffindor!_ '

' _Good for you,_ ' Harry thought back. ' _You might also give me lice, which I don't want._ '

' _I am magically enchanted to prevent such things, brat._ '

How was _he_ supposed to know that? It wasn't as if it was in _Hogwarts: A History_.

' _Already getting up on your school reading, I see,_ ' said the Hat.

Obviously.

' _You're a snarky one though, aren't you?_ '

Was he supposed to be answering these questions or was he just meant to sit there and let the Hat do what it wanted?

' _You would do well in Slytherin._ '

Probably.

' _But doing well isn't what you aim for, is it? There are certain things you desire to know._ '

' _Yes._ '

' _Your intelligence and thirst for all types of knowledge would make you a good Ravenclaw, but your cunning, self-preservation, and resourcefulness would make you a good Slytherin._ '

' _Which one would get me by relatively unnoticed?_ '

The Hat laughed. ' _Neither. You're a celebrity and people are going to watch you no matter what you do._ '

He groaned. Great. Just what he needed. Who was the bloody moron who decided to bestow such an unfitting title upon a baby in the first place?

Another laugh at his misfortune. ' _You'll be watched no matter what, but in Ravenclaw, they'll assume it's your bookish nature that makes you so desirous of knowledge._ '

' _Put me there then. It's probably safest for me anyway. Gryffindors won't seek to start fights simply because of my House. Hufflepuffs probably won't be scared of me. I don't actually care if Slytherins like me or not, but they'd be less confrontational if I'm not a Gryffindor. I don't want to get between the Gryffindor/Slytherin war going on, if the book was correct that is._ '

' _Indeed. And it's that self-preservation that makes you a perfect Slytherin, but for your plans, I'll allow your choice instead._ '

" **RAVENCLAW**!"

Harry was quick to depart from the stool, ignoring everyone's shocked gaping. They had probably all expected him to be in Gryffindor, like his parents.

As Harry had never known them, why the bloody hell would he be anything like them?

Apparently, magical people weren't too bright.

* * *

 **A/N: Another is done!**

 **How was it? Let me know!**

 **Check out my other HP fics!**

 **See ya! :D**

 **CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON. I FOLLOW BACK.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hello, people!**

 **I don't own Harry Potter.**

 **I have no beta.**

 **ENJOY!**

 **CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON. I FOLLOW BACK.**

 **-If anyone tries to correct me on Sue Li's name, I stG I will scream. She is a character created by Rowling herself. For all we know, she's bi-racial, which could explain the spelling of her first name. As someone who studies Asia on the usual, I know that normally it would be Su and not Sue!**

* * *

Harry found himself surrounded by wide eyes and curious stares. Padma Patil sat to his right, Michael Corner on his left. On Padma's right was Sue Li. Terry Boot sat directly opposite Harry, with Anthony Goldstein on his right, and Lisa Turpin on his left. On Lisa's left was Mandy Brocklehurst.

Harry realised just how frustrating it was going to be, being stuck in close quarters with these seven and probably more, for the next several years. But at least the Ravenclaw Table wasn't as loud as the Gryffindor Table, so there was a bonus in all of this.

After the sorting finished, with nine more Ravenclaws added to the mix, Albus Dumbledore, the person Hagrid didn't want people bad-mouthing, stood to give the annual announcement.

Harry was immediately put off by how the man didn't seem worried over the fact that if anyone went near the third floor corridor, they'd die. In fact, he wondered if there was possible way to report it. The school grounds being dangerous was one thing. Inside, where it was supposedly 'the safest place in Britain', not so much.

Harry didn't feel safe.

He would be writing a letter come morning.

The feast began, with more food than Harry had ever imagined, appearing on the plates and platters on the tables. And the fact that it was more than he had ever imagined was because he'd seen and prepared the food Dudley Dursley consumed, for years. He knew that Dudley could put away an entire chicken and still have room for more.

He wondered where the Hogwarts food came from. Did magicals have farms of their own, or did they do business with Muggle farmers? And did they actually do business, or did they just use their magic to steal food that wasn't theirs?

As he had yet to come across any books detailing this, he was going to make it a side mission to look it up.

And who was preparing all the food? Because there was a large amount and it would take a lot of ovens to fit it all, he was certain.

Was there a difference between magically cooked food and the non-magically cooked food?

So many questions, so little time.

* * *

"So, Potter, why aren't you in Gryffindor? Are you certain you were sorted right?" asked Goldstein, looking cocksure and amug.

Harry frowned. "Why else is anyone sorted into their House? They display the attributes necessary. I thought that was common knowledge. I suppose you weren't sorted correctly either."

Goldstein reared back a bit, as if dodging an oncoming blow. The other first year Ravenclaws gaped at how forthright he was being. Not like he was given a choice. He was dealing with idiots, and Ravenclaw was supposed to be full of the smartest students in the school.

"Your parents were Gryffindors though," Padma Patil pointed out, dropping several points on Harry's scale.

"Yes, my _dead_ parents were sorted into Gryffindor. My _dead_ parents that I'll never know, were sorted into Gryffindor. My _dead_ parents that I know nothing about, were sorted into a House that I know _nothing_ about. My _dead_ parents were sorted into Gryffindor and their _living_ child was sorted into Ravenclaw. Any other obvious things you want to point out?"

He was being a little rude yes, but they were asking stupid questions and pointing out obvious things that basically everyone in Magical Britain knew.

Also, he viciously enjoyed how they flinched every time he enumerated the fact that his parents were dead.

Harry proceeded to fill his plate, intent on ignoring them.

* * *

Admittedly, he did not get off to a good start at dinner, not that he cared much. He didn't know anyone, while all of his Housemates seemed to know each other somehow. Even the Muggleborn ones. He had no prior experience and therefore no reason to trust any of them with anything. That was simply how he viewed everything.

The Fifth Year Ravenclaw Prefect, Marlene Fawcett, led them up to Ravenclaw Tower, where they found themselves faced with a bronze knocker that was shaped like an Eagle.

The avian creature lifted its head and gazed at them calmly. "You can keep me, or you can give me away, but if you do, I will cease to exist. What am I?" it asked.

"A secret," Harry murmured from the back of the group.

The eagle's head turned to face him, and it nodded once. "Indeed. That one has many answers, but 'secret' is the most thought of one."

The wooden door opened inward, to reveal blue and bronze silks draping the circular room within. Furniture in the same colour scheme, was arranged all over, with large, arching windows to look out of. The carpet was a midnight blue and was smattered in constellations.

There was a statue of a woman in the distant corner, flanked on either side by two staircases, and directly behind it, was a large, curved bookcase.

The carpet seemed to be perfectly reflected onto the ceiling, which curved upwards in a dome-like shape.

It was imperial, and seemed to be made of mostly marble. Walls, ceiling, and even the statue.

So either Ravenclaw was uptight and a little too interested in monetary possessions, or the room had been severely altered since her time. And from what he'd see thus far, Ravenclaws seemed to have an all-knowing chip on their shoulders to begin with, so it was anyone's guess.

"Welcome to Ravenclaw," said Fawcett. "In our House, we have strict rules about our schoolwork. All assignments are to be done immediately, if they are overnight. If two to five days are given, you will have two nights to finish them ahead of time. You are all expected to spend at least twelve hours in the library a week, we'll know if you aren't there. Every fortnight, each student is assigned an informative essay to write, and will have the fortnight until the next, to complete it.

"We stay away from the Gryffindor and Slytherin drama as much as possible. We are the middle ground. The Slytherins tolerate us as we aren't obnoxious like the Gryffindors, nor pushovers like the Hufflepuffs."

Harry frowned. He was certain that insulting the other Houses wasn't exactly very friendly. Harry didn't find anything to be wrong with them, he just wasn't meant for their Houses.

If anyone was obnoxious, it was Fawcett.

"Getting points taken away from the House will result in extra essays. One for every five points taken. Detention equals a report. A report for each detention assigned to you. We do not take things lightly here. Essays have five days from the time their are assigned, and reports have ten days from when they are assigned. If you follow our rules, life will be easy enough for you."

Harry was still frowning by the time he made it to his dormitory.

Perhaps Slytherin would have been better?

* * *

Harry received his timetable the next morning, at breakfast. Amidst the whispering of his fellow students and the pointing and obvious staring, he managed to get ready, get to the Great Hall on his own, and serve himself some healthy food for breakfast.

He liked plain oats and fruit, plus a cup of tea. That always soothed him.

Professor Flitwick - a multiple time Dueling Champion - was half-goblin at least. He was cheerful and seemed a lot nicer than any of the other Ravenclaws Harry had met thus far.

"Welcome aboard, Mr. Potter!" the little professor cheered before bustling away.

Harry found him to be the most preferable person he'd met in the wizarding world, with Ollivander coming at a closer second, and Tom from the Leaky Cauldron following at third.

Now, according to his schedule, the Ravenclaws took classes with the Hufflepuffs, so he'd most likely see Neville at some time.

Now, to write that letter.

* * *

 **A/N: Another is done!**

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	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello, people!**

 **I don't own Harry Potter.**

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* * *

 **To whom it may concern,**

 **Headmaster Dumbledore forewarned the students about possible dangers around the school** **and warned that unless anyone wanted to die, they should not go near the third floor corridor on the right-hand side.** **I am especially concerned about this because I was assured that Hogwarts was the 'safest place in Britain',** **and possibly dying while inside the school building doesn't come across as 'safe' to me.** **Nor does it make me trust the Headmaster's leadership capabilities.**

 **Also, the third floor seems to have been left alone, despite the fact that it is 'so dangerous' that death or injury** **might occur.** **No wards or spells have been set up to prevent children from going in. It's also foolish to believe that telling children to avoid** **some place without instituting protective measures to prevent them from coming to harm, is going to actually stop them.**

 **According to the Hogwarts Rules and Regulations - which is available to all students and staff - the school is supposed to** **set up a system to prevent death or injury, and if any of the Masters on hand cannot fix the issue within the allotted two days,** **they are to contact the Auror Office for assistance, and go from there.**

 **This has not been done. It is the fifth day of school, and they are no closer to fixing the problem, than I am to graduating.** **I found myself curious and decided to take a look at the third floor, to find that behind a locked door, rests a Cerberus.** **Yes, a three headed canine of monstrous proportions lies behind the door.** **I do not understand why it has to be inside the building and why not in the Dark Forest, where it would be free to roam at the very least.**

 **Upon seeing me, the creature proceeded to try to bite me in half, to which I fled immediately.** **As imagined, I am displeased by what I have seen thus far, and do not find myself wishing to continue my attendance of Hogwarts.** **The European schools on the continent seem more interesting from what I have read.** **I can only hope that someone will take an interest in the situation and fix it before anyone who is less** **observant nor** **swift-footed, tries to explore the 'forbidden corridor'.**

 **Yours,**

 **Harry James Potter.**

* * *

Harry found himself taking a shine to Defence, even if the professor for said class was a bumbling fool.

How Quirrell made it in Ravenclaw, he had no clue, but the man was pathetic. He stuttered and flinched, and he crossed himself with garlic several times a lesson.

It took away from the majesty that was magic.

Charms was interesting, and also came rather easy to him.

Flying was fun, but more for the sake of leaving the ground instead of an interest in a sport.

What Harry was more interested in, was what kind of workout did Quidditch provide?

A broom was very uncomfortable, so no one in their right mind would actually straddle the stick itself. That meant keeping oneself aloft with their muscles. Not all brooms had footrests, meaning some people were keeping themselves up on their own.

The body would move in different directions and would require tightening of certain muscles for extended periods of time.

Harry wanted to know how fast brooms went. Did the speed change due to the weight of the person riding the broom? What about the model or make? Did different woods make better brooms? How did they enchant the brooms to fly? Did the enchantments wear off after a certain period of time? What was the difference between racing brooms and performance brooms?

Harry wanted to know everything. And it wasn't for the sake of playing the game, but for the sake of just knowing.

He liked to know things.

Herbology struck his fancy as well.

The beings and plants used in the magical world interested him very much.

As Harry had skill in cooking and gardening, he already knew some plants very well. Butt others, he wanted to test out.

Would it be poisonous if eaten? If so, what would happen once ingested? Did magicals know that certain plants that they used in potions, were actually not supposed to be eaten? And if they did, why did they bother using them?

Why did some plants seem to have minds of their own? Would they be anything like the Venus Fly Trap, or the Pitcher Plant? Or did the plants have a sort of sentience? Or maybe the aforementioned plants were actually magical in nature?

If so, it would explain why they did what they did.

Harry did not like Transfiguration. The class, not the subject. He was good at it, like almost all of the Ravenclaws were, but McGonagall kind of ruined it for him. He got a feeling that she was put out by him not being sorted into her House, and he didn't know why.

It wasn't like they knew one another, unless she was just in it for the famous boy to bring more prestige to her House.

If that was the case, no thank you.

History of Magic was taught by a ghost. Harry had found himself immediately the center of the ghost's focus. Professor Binns taught the class, but from the way he stared at Harry the entire time, it was more like he was teaching only him, and no one else.

It was creepy and boring.

He thought magical history would be rich with information and instead, all he was hearing about were Goblin Wars, for whatever reason.

He might have to pen another letter, but this time, to the educational sector of the Ministry. He didn't want an hour of his time to be wasted. Not when he could be doing better things.

So far, he'd done his homework in that class, because he couldn't take it seriously.

This morning, Harry had Potions, which he was looking forward to. His potions book had been basic and he hoped that actual brewing would prove to be more interesting.

He knew that he would have to get some library books out soon, in order to properly get in the studying he wanted, not that it would be hard.

The class was not exactly rowdy, but there was enough chatter to make it impossible for him to hear himself think. Still, from what he'd seen, it was much more preferable than what would have been a Slytherin/Gryffindor class.

A moment in, and the door slammed open, revealing a dour looking man with a prominent hooked nose, and a deeply set scowl on his face. The man's black robes billowed behind him perfectly, making him appear all the more imposing.

Severus Snape, one of the few Potions Masters of Britain. Supposedly the youngest in the past century, attaining his Mastery at the age of twenty-one.

He looked exactly as his name surmised; severe.

He took in the class, eyes narrowing upon seeing Harry. He didn't look pleased.

Snape welcomed them, though really it was more of a warning and threat mixed into a speech, than it really was about introducing them to the subject they'd be taking. His love for potions did shine through however, as he sounded like an addict while describing them.

He read off the roster, peering over the parchment when he got to Harry's name and frowning even harder, if it were possible.

A moment later, he began a rapid firing of random questions that Harry had not expected but answered perfectly. And for some reason, Snape only decided to ask _him_ the questions. And for every one Harry answered, the man's glare deepened.

"Five points from Ravenclaw for your cheek."

Harry ended up sharing a confused look with Sue Li, whom he was sharing a table with. She was just as confused. Both of them wondering what he had done to be 'cheeky'.

Harry shrugged. He wasn't doing any kind of extra work simply because he was wrongly punished. If he deserved it, then yes, he'd take his punishment, but for this, no. And if anyone had a problem with it, he'd take it to Professor Flitwick.

They began the preparations for a Boil Cure potion, and Harry found himself slipping into a sort of trance. Like when he cooked.

Unlike most of his classmates, who fumbled with their knives and bottles, Harry seemed to have perfect control over himself, having become used to handling plants and knives when at the Dursleys.

While brewing, he found himself curious over what would happen should he have diced instead of chopped. Would the potion be ruined? Would it change the potency? Would anything change if he used the fangs from a different kind of snake?

Harry prepared the rest of his ingredients as he waited for the time to elapse.

Sue was struggling with her cutting, and Harry leaned over to murmur, "Lengthwise."

She nodded and modified her direction.

Minutes later, he turned the burner off and added the rest of the prepared ingredients.

Waving his wand, Harry smiled when the potion turned blue as described on the board.

As he was bottling his work, Snape's angered voice sounded through the room.

"Longbottom!"

Everyone looked over to see Neville's cauldron, which was actually melting, being vanished by the professor.

"Ten points from Hufflepuff for failing to follow directions!"

The man then whipped around to stare at Harry and said, "You didn't think to tell him to take the cauldron off the fire before adding the porcupine quills, Potter? Ten points from Ravenclaw."

Once again, Harry and Sue shared a look of utter confusion. How was Harry supposed to have stopped Neville from making a mistake, from the other side of the room? And shouldn't he have been focused on his own potion, so why would he be staring at others while he was supposed to be doing his own work?

This might cause problems.

* * *

"Fifteen points in one class!"

Harry ignored Fawcett, who looked like she was going to explode.

"That's a record! Not even the Weasley twins managed that in any of the years they have been here!"

Harry wasn't really paying her any attention, because he still had a Transfiguration essay to write.

"Have you anything to say for yourself?"

"Snape has problems if he expects a first year student to pay attention to their own work as well as the work of other students," said Harry without bothering to look up as he read his book. He wanted to cite the information properly after all.

She sputtered, and Harry ended up being saved by Sue and Padma.

"Harry answered all of his questions perfectly and politely!" said Padma, looking affronted. "He took five points away, claiming that Harry was being cheeky."

Sue nodded. "Longbottom ruined his potion and Snape blamed Harry despite the fact that he was on the opposite end of the room and was finishing his own potion!"

Fawcett blinked and looked between Harry and the two girls, who were staring her down, hands on their hips.

"I guess I'll have to talk it over with Professor Flitwick then."

"Good," said Harry, closing his book. As he stood, he added, "I wasn't going to accept the punishment anyway."

He sauntered away before she could whinge any further.

* * *

In the corridor the next day, Harry saw a woman and several men, walking toward the Grand Staircase. In passing, he heard Susan Bones of Hufflepuff murmur, "Why is auntie here?"

Yes, he agreed. Why was her family member visiting the school?

He'd have to look up the Sacred Twenty-Eight again. The Bones' were on there, he was certain.

He couldn't remember the significance though.

* * *

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	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hello, people!**

 **I don't own Twilight.**

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* * *

"Ah! Mr. Potter, please come in!"

Harry closed the door behind himself and took a good look at Professor Flitwick's office. It didn't seem that much different from any other room in the castle. Floating candles here and there. A floating duster was going over the large bookshelf in the back. There was a gecko lounging on a pillow off to the side.

"Ms. Fawcett alerted me to a minor problem involving you," the small professor stated while motioning to the free chair in front of his desk. Flitwick was stood atop a stack of thick books in order to give himself height.

"There _is_ a problem and I am involved, though I do not believe it is minor, nor that I should take any blame for it," Harry murmured as he sat.

The chair was comfortable and despite it being made of hard wood, it was soft, and curved under his form as he sat. How did it so that? Was it a special type of magical wood? Was it charmed or enchanted? Would it change if he moved from side to side?

Harry did just that, just to test out his theory, and yes, it did move according to where his weight was pressed. Interesting.

"I know Professor Snape tends to be a little too quick to punish, but I would like to get your story first."

Harry shrugged. "He began the lesson by threatening us that if we so much as 'lollygagged' in his class, we'd never return and we'd 'suffer his displeasure'. He took role and glared at me when he called my name. Then began with a pop quiz, where he only asked me questions. There were ten, and all of them came from the last chapter in our potions book. I answered them perfectly and he took five points because I was being 'cheeky'. We worked on the Boil Cure. I had just finished mine, when Snape began to yell at Neville for doing his wrong, and then he vanished Neville's potion. He took five points from Hufflepuff, and then turned to yell at me for not stopping Neville from making a mistake, and took ten points from Ravenclaw. Neville was on the other side of the room."

He went silent then, his monotone voice cutting off quickly as there was nothing more to add.

Flitwick frowned. "How has your first week been, Mr. Potter? You are the only first year I haven't had the pleasure of speaking with yet."

Harry sighed and decided to not hold back. "Honestly sir, I'm not really enjoying myself. I'm stuck in a House of people who don't seem to understand that just because the people that created me were sorted somewhere, doesn't mean I'm going to be anything like them and be sorted to where they went. Especially when they died before they could infect me with any of their beliefs, or likes and dislikes."

Flitwick frowned even harder.

"I've been verbally assaulted by a teacher already, rudely ignored by another, and nearly bitten in half by a Cerberus. So my experience isn't that great."

Flitwick sputtered. "You _went_ to the third floor corridor?!"

"Indeed. To build a sound argument, one must some some facts at least, and if I wanted the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to do something about it, then I had to make sure that my argument was compelling enough to get their attention."

Flitwick gasped. "You are the one who reported the Headmaster?"

"And threatened to change schools," Harry added simply. "He broke some of the Regulations in the handbook and I gave him a week to fix it, before I said anything."

Flitwick blinked and for a moment, there was silence as the man considered Harry's words.

"I'm going to give you one essay, for breaking that one rule. The points you lost to Professor Snape will be restored immediately, however. If he takes points from you, I want you to keep a separate record of them and exactly why they were taken."

Harry nodded, and as he had broken a school rule, he would accept the punishment.

"I will also have a talk with Professor Snape, though I admit that I'm not certain how well it'll go, or if he'll listen."

"That's alright, sir. I can always write another letter if I need to."

And with that, Harry bowed and left the office.

* * *

"Albus, what was Amelia Bones here for?" Minerva asked as the professors sat down to discuss the first week of school.

"According to Amelia, she received a direct letter from a student, describing Fluffy, and complaining about how 'unsafe' the inside of the school was. She proceeded to inform me that said student noticed that I was in violation of some regulations in the Hogwarts Rules and Regulations, and that the student had given me a week to fix the problem and when it was not taken care of, they sent the letter out."

Minerva sputtered. "You were actually in violation?"

Albus nodded. "Apparently I was. In my old age I seem to have forgotten many of the laws, bylaws, rules, and regulations. I am going to spend some time in the future reacquainting myself with them so as to avoid any further incidents."

"Who made the complaint though?" asked Pomona. "It had to have been a new student because none of the older years batted a lash at the possibility of danger inside the school."

Filius laughed. "It was Mr. Potter."

The silence in response to his revelation was enough to make him chortle.

"Why?" Minerva demanded, looking affronted. "His father would have thought it was a grand adventure!"

None of the professors missed Severus' scowl at the mention of James Potter.

Filius sighed then. "One of the other first years brought it to my attention that Mr. Potter struggles with his Housemates because they expect him to be like his 'dead parents that he never knew', as he so callously pointed out during the Welcoming Feast. Just this morning, the boy told me directly that they 'died before they could infect him with any of their beliefs'."

Minerva held a hand to her heart in horror and Filius nodded. "I don't think he likes being compared to two people he seems to know nothing about. Which is something that I find worrisome." He turned to Albus and asked, "Why doesn't Mr. Potter know _anything_ about his parents, Albus?"

Minerva turned to him as well, a fire burning in her eyes as something the rest of them didn't know, seemed to come to a head.

"I had hoped that Petunia would put aside her differences with Lily an-"

" _Petunia_?!" Severus hissed, suddenly in an even worse mood than before. "You left him with _Petunia_? You said he was in a loving home and was being cared for! Petunia hates magic and anything to do with it. She isn't equipped to raise a magical child nor should she be trusted around one!"

Minerva was staring Albus down. "I told you they were the worst sort of Muggles imaginable!"

"Family-"

"Means _nothing_!" Severus said, cutting the man off. "Your foolish belief that people being related to each other means that they must obviously care for one another, is wrong, Albus. You have made this mistake plenty of times, not only with me, but even with your _precious_ Gryffindors," Severus sneered.

"Now Severus-"

"The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, remember that, Albus."

Severus stood and left immediately, robes billowing as he went.

The remaining professors, who had been watching in silence, all turned to Minerva. Quirinus was the one to ask, "W-What is s-so bad about Mr. P-Potter's f-family?"

Minerva sighed. "They are terrible. Lily used to come to me in tears about the horrible things her sister said to her. Severus even grew up in the same neighborhood with them, so he would know Petunia is not someone worth even a curt nod."

She ignored Albus' sputtering and continued.

"She dotes upon her child far too much and from what Hagrid told me of his visit, they spoil their son and treat Mr. Potter unkindly. Mr. Potter looks like a small breeze would knock him down, while his cousin apparently resembles a baby whale. Mr. Potter was sleeping on the floor, while his cousin got to use the sofa. He was also very timid during their shopping trip in Diagon Alley."

"Minerva," Pomona began, "is it possible that they been… hurting him?"

"It wouldn't surprise me," the firm woman replied, much to everyone's horror. "I wasn't joking when I said they were the worst sort of Muggles imaginable."

"Perhaps, Filius, you should take a look into his home life and decide what to do from there," Pomona said, looking at her colleague with begging eyes.

"Mr. Potter needs to remain with his relatives," said Albus imploringly. "There are protections through the blood of Lily's sacrifice."

"Protections that only work if she loves him, Albus," Fillius pointed out. "If there is no love between then, he's as good as dead. Blood Magick only goes so far."

The rest of the meeting was postponed until a later date, because several of the professors were too riled up to continue on civilly.

* * *

Harry sighed as he finished his homework.

Now to handle the ghost sitting in the corner, who refused to stop staring at him.

* * *

 **A/N: Another is done!**

' **The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb** ', is the full saying. ' **Blood is thicker than water** ' is actually incorrect, especially with how it is used.

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	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hello, people!**

 **I don't own Harry Potter.**

 **I have no beta.**

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* * *

"Why do you keep staring at me?" Harry demanded of the ghost when he finally managed to walk on over and confront them.

The ghost in question was the Ravenclaw House Ghost. The Grey Lady. Harry was certain that this one could rival the Bloody Baron in how long they had been at Hogwarts, if their frilly clothing was anything to go by.

And he was not joking when he said frills. Every piece of their clothing screamed _ancient, but wealthy_.

The Grey Lady looked him in the eye, silently staring like they had been all evening. It had become something they did on the regular, like every other ghost Harry came across. They just stared at him, like there was something about him that only they all could see.

"You have been touched by Death," the ghost replied, head tilting curiously. "Yet you live, therefore Death chose _you_."

He frowned. "You speak as if death is a person. You aren't the first to say so either."

The Grey Lady smiled as if he had said something amusing. "Those who are touched by Death, but still live afterward, are gifted with power. The power changes depending on the person. Yours is the ability to communicate with the dead, on a level that no other can."

When Harry still showed confusion, the ghost of Ravenclaw Tower reached out and poked him on the forehead, only his hair protected him from the the chill of her fingers.

That was when it hit him. Touch.

John had touched him by ruffling his hair, but Harry had been so focused on other things that he hadn't paid it any mind. The Grey Lady just touched him as well. A ghost wasn't a physical being. They were a spirit that lingered on in the mortal realm because they were not ready to depart, for whatever personal reason they had.

Ghosts floated through walls and were transparent. There was no mass or matter to them. So how were they able to touch him?

"Your are Death's Chosen," said the ghost. "And your ability can be a boon or a burden."

"Can you- Can you show me memories as well?" Harry asked, unsure of himself.

"Yes. Though if I did, I would no longer remain here and I would move on. That is the price we pay to be heard in a way that no one else can be. My guilt and terrors would be passed on to you, leaving me with nothing to tether me to this world."

The Grey Lady looked away.

"Do you… _not_ want to move on?" Harry asked. "I can't say that existing in your state seems fun. You can't eat or sleep, and you can't touch anything, so entertainment only comes from watching. Watching and waiting eternally."

"I _am_ languishing," said the ghost in almost a whisper.

Harry had to stop and consider. A ghost's vocal chords weren't physical, so how exactly were they still able to speak?

Shaking himself back to the present, Harry said, "Then maybe it is time for you to move along."

They stared each other down for several moments, before the ghost nodded. Their entire body began to glow slightly, and Harry actually got to see as a ghost disappeared into his chest, almost as if they were sucked in.

* * *

 _When he opened his eyes, he found himself staring at diadem. He was turning it over in soft and delicate hands. Hands that were not his own._

 _Everything was covered in shades of grey. He could not see any other colours. It looked so dreary in this forest. So lonely._

 _The diadem turned just slightly and he realised where he had seen it. Atop the Rowena Ravenclaw statue. The Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw was in his hands. Or rather, the vision's hands and he was just stuck spectating._

 _"Wit beyond measure, is man's greatest treasure," a whispery, heartbroken voice murmured._

 _Stepping forward, Harry's arm reached out to place the diadem in the hollow of a large tree. The other hand waved a wand, and a murmured incantation slipped passed his lips._

 _With a nod, Harry stepped away and turned to leave, only to find the Bloody Baron standing before him?_

 _His body reared back without his consent. "What are **you** doing here?!" he demanded, voice full of anger and hurt._

 _"Lady Rowena has tasked me with bringing you home," the Baron responded._

 _Why would Rowena Ravenclaw want the Grey Lady to 'come home'?_

 _"I refuse to return, Baron," said the Grey Lady._

 _"Helena, pleas-"_

 _"No!"_

 _Harry was almost struck dumb at the revelation. The Grey Lady was Helena Ravenclaw, daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw. And she had just shoved the diadem that belonged to her mother, in the hollow of a tree in the middle of a forest. Was that why it was 'lost'?_

 _Helena withdrew her wand and aimed it at the Bloody Baron. "You will leave now, or I shall have to act."_

 _Harry watched as the Baron's face contorted in anger. As if he'd just been denied more than a simple desire for Helena to come home. As if there was more to the story than what meets the eye of the beholder._

 _"You **will** come home, Helena. Your mother wishes for your return!"_

 _Helena wasted no time in casting, though it was silent. Harry didn't know what spell it was, but the Bloody Baron sidestepped it easily and rushed her with a knife in hand?_

 _Why would a wizard be using a knife? It was an incredibly Muggle way of thinking. The Baron was the Slytherin House ghost and didn't Slytherins look down on Muggles? Or so the books claimed. But then again, books weren't always right. History was written by the victors after all._

 _Helena threw up what looked like a golden yet transparent shield. She moved back, and Harry found that they had been cornered against the very tree she had hidden the diadem in._

 _There was a sharp pain in his stomach, and Harry could see the horror filling the man's eyes._

 _"Helena?"_

 _Harry could feel the ground rushing toward his face, and his vision went dark._

 _"Helena!"_

* * *

Harry awoke with a gasp, inhaling air like he'd never breathed before.

Looking up, he could see the Grey Lady - Helena Ravenclaw - floating above him.

The ghost gave a smile that lacked any kind of positive emotion.

"The last thing I could say is that the diadem is no longer lost."

The ghost looked away for a second, before staring down at him once again. "I told a student where to find it, and he did. He returned it, and hid it in the castle, in the place where everything is hidden. _He defiled it_ ," Helena gritted out.

"Who was it?" asked Harry as he struggled to regain his bearings. Unfortunately, his body seemed to like the floor most at present.

"He was known as Tom Riddle."

Helena began to fade, the silvery glow from their form disappearing.

"With this knowledge, do what you will."

Harry was left in the Ravenclaw Common Room, considering everything he had learned.

And he knew he'd have to find a book talking about death and what happened if someone didn't die when they should.

* * *

 **A/N: Another one is done!**

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	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hello, people!**

 **I don't own Harry Potter.**

 **I have no beta.**

 **ENJOY!**

 **CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON. I FOLLOW BACK.**

 **-In PoA, Oliver Wood comments that Harry can order a new broom, so I like to believe that owl ordering exists. Fred and George also had order forms for WWW, in GoF and OotP.**

* * *

 **List of Dead People from 1990.**

 **List of Dead People from 1989.**

 **List of Dead People from 1988.**

So Harry's quest to learn more information about Death and the Magical World's view of it, wasn't going so well. It seemed like anything involving death had been completely redacted or removed in the Hogwarts Library. He didn't see the benefits of that.

So he would have to look for other things, or simply give up.

Harry didn't give up.

Plan B was to look in the various Owl Order Subscription Lists and see if he could find anything in those.

Harry had been smart enough to grab a heavy amount of Galleons behind Hagrid's enormous back. He could afford a good amount of books for himself and he intended to get as many as he needed.

Flipping open the booklet for Flourish and Blotts, Harry looked over the ordering information. Place his wand on the dot provided and focus some magic into the wand. The order would be put through and the owl would arrive within the week with his order. The fowl also knew not to give over the order unless the receiver put the money in the pouch around their necks. His wand acted as a homing beacon in a sense. Cool.

It was an interesting system that he would spend more time considering later on, but at present, he just wanted to get the books he needed.

The Grey Lady had told him that he would take on the emotions of the ghosts if he absorbed their memories.

And true enough, his emotions were a little out of control, which wasn't natural for him.

The boy turned the pages until he found a more interesting, but limited selection of books to choose from.

 **Death: A Gift or a Curse?**

 _The famous topic of discussion is broken down into twenty chapters of pros and cons._

 _Award-Winning Author, Jonah Harkens enlightens the masses with information never previously considered._

 **What Does it Mean to Know Death?**

 _In the world of magic, 'knowing death' can have several meanings. Which meaning do you best identify with? Find out inside!_

 **Fearing Death is Foolish or Shrewd?**

 _Mind Healer Adelaide Heffron discusses death with noted, Squib Psychiatrist Markus Elberg._

 _Deep and telling revelations about the human psyche and why death is always such a prevalent factor in our actions._

Harry decided to order all three. It would give him something to do while waiting for the monotonous life of being a student, to pass him by.

This would hopefully shed some light on him being 'Death's Chosen'.

* * *

Filius hoped his next discussion with Harry Potter went well. He had alerted Fawcett to tell Harry to come see him in his office, and he could only pray that the boy was open and gave him no trouble.

Though Mr. Potter didn't seem the type to start trouble.

"Hello, professor."

Filius made an effort to smile. Harry sat down in the provided chair and seemed to wait from him to speak.

"How have you been adapting to the Magical World, Mr. Potter?"

The boy shrugged. "It's okay. Could have used a better introduction, but overall, it's been fine."

Filius quirked a brow. "How was your introduction lacking?"

Harry was silent for a moment, before answering. "Hagrid is nice, don't get me wrong, but he isn't the type of person who should introduce children to a magical world. He isn't a member of the staff, in any legal capacity, which is just one of the regulations the headmaster broke.

"As for my introduction, it was simply me being chased around by letters and getting blamed by my uncle for it. And then Hagrid came and knocked a door down, bent a shotgun in half, and gave my cousin a tail because he didn't like what my uncle said to him.

"So it was interesting, and certainly a learning experience, but lacking in substance all the same."

Filius was caught on the 'gave my cousin a tail' bit, but asked, "What have you learned?

He wanted to know if the boy needed help mixing in with their society.

"Never insult Albus Dumbledore in front of Rubeus Hagrid, else he'll give you or your child a pig's tail."

Hagrid was not allowed to do magic and he didn't have a wand, so Filius had no idea how he managed to give a Muggle a tail, but he was going to be having words in the next meeting. That was simply not done. Not only could it cause legal troubles for Hagrid, but the school as a whole should Mr. Potter feel the need to mention it to anyone else.

Some students reported questionable things to their parents after all. And Hagrid had violated a law. Merlin forbid the Ministry to found out.

"Was there anything you wished could have been explained better?"

"Why people put so much stock into blood purity when it's obvious that the 'Halfbloods', 'Mudbloods', and 'Halfbreeds' are much more powerful. History dictates it. Just look at Voldemort and Headmaster Dumbledore. Yourself and Professor Snape. It's illogical and ridiculous.

"On another note, Purebloods seem to mix up terms, referring to anyone who isn't a Pureblooded blood purist as a 'Mudblood', thereby making only themselves look even more stupid.

"Alos, why was I informed that Slytherin was the bad House and that every witch or wizard who has been in Slytherin, has gone bad? Merlin was a Slytherin and he wasn't bad."

Now he understood why Hagrid should not have been the one to take the boy anywhere. Hagrid was a good soul, he just let his personal grievances get in the way of his logical thinking.

Filius set himself in for a long discussion. One that was sorely needed.

* * *

The plans were not moving as they should have been. He's expected Potter to be a Gryffindor, and that failed. He expected the boy to be pigheaded and arrogant, and he wasn't. He expected the exalted hero, and instead he got an abused boy who could use a good meal or a thousand.

Lord Voldemort had planned and planned, and now his plans were ruined. What did he do now?

Potter certainly wasn't jumping to risk his own life any time soon. He probably would have done well in Slytherin with his attitude.

So how did the Dark Lord get a Slytherin to reveal themselves and possibly risk their own safety? Potter had nothing of substance, no family to threaten, and no friends to blackmail. The boy was most assuredly alone and without connections.

And there was something else about him. Something that seemed to call to Voldemort. But what was it?

* * *

 **A/N: Another is done!**

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	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hello, people!**

 **I don't own Harry Potter.**

 **I have no beta.**

 **ENJOY!**

 **CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON. I FOLLOW BACK.**

 **-Shit meet fan.**

* * *

Once again the professors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were gathered together for a meeting, that would hopefully actually finish this time instead of everybody going their separate ways with terrible attitudes.

Filius had already organized everything he wanted to bring up during the meeting, and while he knew that this would cause much more drama, he knew that it had to be done.

Everyone needed to be made very clearly aware of what could possibly happen should Harry Potter decide to tell other people of his first experience in the Magical World.

"Hopefully this time will be able to finish our discussion," Albus began with a genial smile.

It was met with a round of snorts, but nobody made a comment.

Filius cleared his throat, deciding that he should at least get this over with now. "Mr. Potter shared with me his first experience in the Magical World, and I have to say that I am a little disappointed in the things he had to witness.

"He was told some very unpleasant things about Slytherin House, which contradicted things that he had read. He witnessed Hagrid somehow magically giving his cousin a pig's tail because Harry's uncle said something that Hagrid did not like. Hagrid did not properly explain how owls are used for post, or how the money system works, and he knew nothing about the exchange rates. Mr. Potter was also incredibly displeased when Hagrid left him alone for about an hour, with people he didn't know."

He could already see how unhappy Pomona was at hearing this. The woman was very careful about the children she showed around, and Hagrid's lacklustre tour would horrify her.

"I want to say that I'm surprised, but I'm really not," said Severus with all the sarcasm that Slytherins were known for.

Minerva cast a glare in the man's direction, not that it did anything at all.

Filius decided to plough onward. "Mr. Potter has also expressed some worry over the ghosts. Apparently they like to follow him around and they stare at him a lot. He swears up and down that he met a ghost a year ago who did the same thing. He doesn't understand it but it's beginning to annoy him.

"The boy has admitted to thinking about switching educational facilities, for many reasons he didn't seem willing to divulge."

Minerva began to sputter, along with Albus.

Filius sighed. "He has no ties here. And it isn't like we can force him to stay if he wants to attend a school where he'll probably feel more safe and less stalked.

"He was approached by Ronald Weasley yesterday and their meeting did not go well. Mr. Potter is not one to fraternise with people who are loud and demand attention. He prefers to remain by himself, studying the various subjects that interest him. He doesn't have time for playing games, and when he heard some of the things Mr. Weasley was saying, he made it blatantly clear to me that he would _never_ be friends with Ronald Weasley, _ever_."

He shook his head. Apparently, Ronald had gotten it in his head that because Harry was a Ravenclaw, then he was a 'stuck up ponce' and if he wanted to be 'normal', he should get re-sorted into Gryffindor. Harry had not taken that well and had lost Ravenclaw five points for hexing the other boy.

Minerva's head fell into her hand, and a few chuckles filled the room. Weasleys weren't often known for watching their mouths before speaking.

"I'll talk with him," the woman said quietly.

Filius finally concluded his announcements with, "I will be taking a journey to Mr. Potter's place of residence in order to evaluate for myself, whether or not it is suitable. If not, I will file a report immediately."

Pomona gave a firm nod of agreement. "Perhaps I should go with you, just in case."

"If you wish."

Filius would never forget the look of utter betrayal on Albus' face. For some reason, it tickled him down to the bone.

* * *

Filius and Pomona stared at each other as they searched the house. The Dursley family were seated stiffly in the lounge while the two magicals looked through the house. Not one photo of Harry Potter.

There were two bedrooms filled to the brim with toys, but judging from Harry's actions, neither thought any of them belonged to the boy. Another room that wasn't being used, plus the master bedroom.

When they returned to speak with Petunia, Pomona made casual mention of how Harry loved his room and was hoping they'd let him decorate.

That opened the floodgates.

Dudley Dursley stood up suddenly and screamed for all he was worth.

"Why does the freak get to have my bedroom and take away all of my things just because people know where he sleeps?!"

"Now, Dudl-" Petunia had tried to calm him, but it was not going to work.

"MUMMY, I WANT HIM BACK IN HIS CUPBOARD! I DON'T WANT HIM IN MY ROOM! I DON'T WANT HIM HERE AT ALL!"

Pomona exploded, which in turn shut everyone else up. " **WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY 'HIS CUPBOARD?!** "

The ensuing revelation made everything worse.

* * *

Harry stared at the letter, feeling all sorts of confused. He also wasn't certain whether he should be happy or annoyed.

 **Dear Mr. Potter,**

 **The Ministry has receive intelligence, and two complaint forms, that your home life was questionable at best, and abusive at worst. Upon sending a team of workers from the Magical Child Care and Services Division to investigate these claims, we were horrified to learn of your experiences at the hands of your Muggle relatives.**

 **By order of Chief Witch of the MCCSD, you were immediately removed from the guardianship of Petunia and Vernon Dursley. This makes you a ward of the Ministry. The Dursleys will be put on trial some times in November, they have been taken into custody.**

 **Currently, available families are being looked into for your possible adoption.**

 **The list of families is as follows:**

 **Bones**

 **Carmichael**

 **Fawcett**

 **Greengrass**

 **Longbottom**

 **Malfoy**

 **Weasley**

 **Zabini**

 **If you have any concerns, we ask that you reply to this letter using the envelope provided. Your views and concerns will be taken into account. The Heads of these families come from long lines with rich history in Magical Britain. They are the best chances for a suitable upbringing.**

 **On 13 October, the Wizengamot will convene to decide who should be allowed to adopt you.**

 **Hoping you are well,**

 **Moriah McKinnon**

 _Asst. Sec._

 _Magical Child Care and Services Division_

Well then. He had another letter to write.

* * *

 **A/N: Another is done!**

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 **See ya! :D**

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	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hello, people!**

 **I don't own Harry Potter.,**

 **I have no beta.**

 **ENJOY!**

 **CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON. I FOLLOW BACK.**

* * *

Amelia Bones stared at the congregated members of the Wizengamot. They were there for a reason that no one had been informed of, but that it involved the safety of a magical child.

She, along with seven other people, were seated at the floor, and she realised what was expected of them. They were the Heads of the families that were 'safe' and she used the term loosely, to adopt whichever child this was.

Dumbledore sat in his usual seat, looking unhappy with what was going on. She had a feeling it had nothing to do with the abuse of the child.

Olga Oliphant, Chief Witch of the Magical Child Care and Services Division, was standing before the Wizengamot. In her left hand was a file, in her right hand was a letter.

Dumbledore called for silence and order, and gave the usual introduction for cases such as this. Olga gave a stiff curtsy to the members of the Wizengamot, before opening her file.

"The child we are all here for, is none other than Harry James Potter."

Dumbledore had to call for order when the ramblings of the people started up once again. Olga sent a nod his way and pulled two scrolls from one of the pouches in the file.

"Two Hogwarts professors visited Mr. Potter's former place of residence and reported their observations. I immediately sent out my best investigators and learned a more detailed story than either professor could give."

The file began levitating beside her head, and the two complaint forms unrolled before her so that she may read them aloud.

 **Name of Abused/Possibly Abused Child:** Harry James Potter

 **Name of Reporter:** Filius Flitwick

 _Mr. Potter was sorted into my House, and ever since that day two and a half weeks ago, I have been continually baffled by him._

 _He came to school with no knowledge of his parents and no knowledge of his ancestry. He knew nothing about magic, but he wanted to learn._

 _Random comments he has made and his explicit desire to remain out of harm's way, raised many red flags. When his guardian's name was revealed in a teacher's meeting, both our venerated Potions Master, Severus Snape, and our astounding Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, expressed discontentment._

 _Further observation of his behavior led to my desire to evaluate his home life._

 _My friend and fellow professor, Mistress of Herbology, Pomona Sprout offered to come with me._

 _We made note of how unpleasant his relatives were upon first greeting. The son called us 'freaks' when he answered the door. The mother sneered at us. The father threatened us with Muggle law enforcement._

 _Pomona merely had to look at them to silence them all._

 _There are no photographs of Harry Potter in that house. There are only three chairs at the table._

 _Four bedrooms, one master, one guest for the father's sister, and the other two belong to the son. Though it was admitted that one was only just given to Mr. Potter because his Hogwarts letters were addressed to his original room. The Cupboard Under the Stairs._

 _We learned this when Pomona made mention of Harry wishing to decorate his room and the son revealing that Mr. Potter spent ten years living in a cupboard. Not only that, but apparently he was locked in with several dangerous chemicals as well. Things that can create noxious fumes if they reach the wrong temperature._

 _He had one change of clothes. He was expected to cook and clean to 'earn his keep'. He wasn't fed at every meal._

 _We left to file our reports, having full confidence that something would be done with the barest amount of information we learned._

Olga switched to the other parchment.

 **Name of Abused/Possibly Abused Child:** Harry James Potter

 **Name of Reporter:** Pomona Sprout

 _Harry Potter is a very quiet boy who keeps to himself. He's not shy, he just doesn't seem to like people much. He also has a sharp thirst for knowledge. He will seclude himself in the library, reading anything and everything._

 _His choice in reading material jumps from books on the Sacred Twenty-Eight, to books about Death._

 _He is snarky, and gets defensive very quickly. Also has no problem in handling anyone who bothers him too much. Whether it be by wand or word, he will cut down those who get in his way._

 _He knows nothing of his parents and doesn't seem too interested in learning anything about them. He has high concern for his safety, as shown by the need to report the Headmaster for violating several regulations of Hogwarts. However, that was a bit contradicted judging by his need to view a Cerberus with his own eyes in order to form a perfect argument._

 _Has threatened to change schools, because there is nothing tying him to Great Britain or Hogwarts. His stunning lack if knowledge of our world and the treatment from his relatives had bred and interesting young man, but I worry._

 _His relatives hate him and I can only assume that he feels the same. His mother's sister referred to magic as 'freakish' and that Lily Potter was an 'abomination' on her family. I can guess the sort of things she might have said to Harry himself._

 _Before joining Filius, I had stopped to speak with Rubeus Hagrid, who had been the one to have to **physically deliver Harry's letter** , because his aunt and uncle wouldn't let him read the letters that kept appearing._

 _Hagrid was horrified to find out that Harry was under the impression that his parents had died as drunks in a Muggle car crash. He knew nothing of his magic, or his parents beyond the lies fed to him. He was also very on edge and watched Hagrid's every move._

 _Hagrid did not have pleasant things to say about his experience with the Dursleys and he has expressed worry for Harry._

 _On another note, Harry seems to have never received any gifts, nor celebrated his birthday._

 _Inside the cupboard he had lived in for so long, were little drawings. On several of them he introduces himself as 'Freak' until one day, when he was seven, a scrawled, 'My name is Harry Potter' appeared on one drawing. That same introduction was repeated every time on every dated drawing after that._

 _I don't want him staying in that place. Though I don't think they physically hurt him, there are other ways to hurt a child._

Olga gave pause, in order to make sure that everyone was listening, and boy were they. Everyone was silent as death, horrified at the observations. And those had just been complaints!

"We investigated and found that both professors were indeed correct. The cousin bullied Mr. Potter relentlessly, because his parents could not lay a finger on him. There were repeated accounts of emotional and psychological abuse. Vernon Dursley's sister allowed her dog to attack Mr. Potter.

"From our Legilimency tests, Mr. Potter will have severely scarred legs because of it. He's had several broken bones thanks to his cousin's gang.

"The Dursleys convinced an entire community that he was the son of a prostitute and her pimp, and that he was a 'no good delinquent'. All but one person in the entire community, treated the boy terribly. They told his teachers that he cheated on all of his work and stole his cousin's work instead. This caused him to give up on schooling, and no one noticed how the cousin suddenly began failing every exam or piece of work, when Mr. Potter stopping trying."

Amelia had to put a hand on her head. It was times like this where it was hard to be positive about Muggles. Objectively she knew that it wasn't all Muggles, but that didn't mean the Wizengamot would see it that way.

"These Lords and Ladies that you see before you are the Heads of the families that my department has concluded are suitable for raising someone of Mr. Potter's status and caliber.

"We asked Mr. Potter to send us a letter if he had any concerns about the families presented, and he responded, though I have yet to read the letter for I wanted to save it for here and now."

Olga waved her wand, and the envelope that she had been holding, opened. A folded up piece of parchment slipped from the confines, and unfolded itself.

 **To Whom It May Concern,**

 **I in fact, have a problem with six of the eight families listed before me.**

 **I am judging based on what I have personally witnessed, and facts and announcements I have read in various books.**

 **I would not be able to stand living with either the Greengrasses, Malfoys, or Zabinis. They are predominantly Pureblooded and Dark aligned, and for some reason, this is a perfectly okay reason for them to shun anyone not Pureblooded, Dark, or Slytherin. And they disown family members for not being magical, or magically powerful enough.**

 **I don't care if people don't want to talk about it or not. The fact is, all three families have a thick history of blood purism that would make me fear for my life.**

 **Malfoy was convicted as a follower of the man who murdered people for literally no good reason. Sure, he was acquitted because of the 'Imperius' and all that, but the fact is, something about him matched what Voldemort was looking for, which gives me reason to be concerned. That a mad man went through such lengths to get someone under his control, bothers me.**

 **His son is a shining example of what I don't want to be. He should have been a Gryffindor. If I have to hear one more time about how 'his father will hear about' something, I will implode.**

 **As for Zabini, why would I want a woman, who somehow loses her husband's exactly ten days after marrying them, and then of course she just gets all of their money when they're gone for too long, to have legal control over me? I also don't care how no one wants to draw attention to it, I will gladly do it for them. That is suspicious.**

 **And for Greengrass, I would not wish to align myself with a family who shoves their daughters off on the highest bidder.**

 **Now, the Weasleys are like the Malfoys, but on the other end of the spectrum. Predominantly Light aligned with an apparent hatred of anything not Light or Gryffindor. That bothers me. And judging by how their youngest son, and third eldest sons are, I'm skeptical of their ability to raise children. Their twins are obviously outcasts in the family because they don't fit in anywhere. Too old to be with the youngest children, but too young to be with the eldest children. So they are stuck, and they don't seem very happy to me.**

 **The Fawcetts have two daughters in Hogwarts at present, and one is in my House. I am not impressed with either of them. They could rival the Malfoy Heir for the spot of 'most cocky student'. What would happen to me if I lived in a house with them?**

 **Finally, Longbottom.**

 **I am friends with Neville Longbottom, but I have noticed some very unpleasant things in regards to his character.**

 **He came to school terrified of his own shadow, and he flinches like he thinks people are going to hit him. He has no self-confidence and often remarks that he's not a 'good enough Heir'. Sometimes he laments his placement into Hufflepuff because his gran thinks Hufflepuff is 'soft' and that he should be 'living up to his father's potential' in Gryffindor.**

 **She is forcing him to use a wand that doesn't work for him. His father's wand. It's practically dead in his hands. And he's frustrated because he isn't the replica of his father, that she wants him to be.**

 **She often sends him Howlers every few days ordering him to 'straighten up', among other things.**

 **I worry about the kind of environment he grew up in and I would not willingly put myself in the same place. Not now, not ever.**

 **I have no worries over the final two families. They are mostly Hufflepuff alumni. Fair, kind, and not prejudiced from what I have seen and read.**

 **Though I would hope that somebody _asked_ these families if they even wanted to adopt a child they don't know. It seems very presumptuous to just assume one of them will adopt me. And they don't have to if they don't want to. I only need a place to stay for two months a summer until I am of age, nothing more.**

 **Thank you for at least _informing_ me of the sudden shift in my life.**

 **Harry J. Potter.**

Amelia turned to stare at the men and women she was sitting with, noticing how stiff Lucius' jaw was, and how Regent Longbottom looked ready to spit fire.

The Wizengamot looked like she felt. Baffled. An eleven year old had written that. What kind of studying as he doing? And it was obvious that he had no training in proper etiquette. There were just some things that people did not say so blatantly.

However, she was sure to pull Olga aside and speak to her about Mr. Potter's observations with the Longbottom Heir. That could not be ignored.

A look at Dumbledore showed utter embarrassment.

She wondered just what was going through his mind. Something manipulative no doubt.

And now came the actual arguments over who should take in the Potter Heir.

* * *

 **A/N: Another is done!**

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 **See ya! :D**

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	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hello, people!**

 **I don't own Harry Potter.,**

 **I have no beta.**

 **ENJOY!**

 **CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON. I FOLLOW BACK.**

 **_I've been sick. But damn it all did I want to put this out there.**

* * *

"Neville, are you okay?"

Harry did not often find himself concerned for other people and their feelings, because nobody had ever been concerned for him, but he did not like how down Neville Longbottom had seemed to be for the past three days.

And it all started with a letter. However this one, was not a Howler like the ones his gran always send him. This one was quiet, and Neville had burst into tears by the end of it. He then rushed from the Great Hall, amidst the laughter of the Slytherin and Gryffindor Tables.

Harry was not a cruel person, he just wasn't the textbook definition of nice. He did not believe in throwing his life down for people he didn't know. And he did not believe that his goal in life was that he should be kind to everybody.

He was kind to the people whom he felt deserved his kindness. And Neville was somebody that needed any form of kindness he could get. So Harry ran after the boy, wanting to make sure that he was okay.

"Yeah," the boy mumbled, though a loud sniffle accompanied it.

"You don't sound well."

"I'll be fine."

Harry didn't know what the right thing to do was in this instant. In his personal opinion, he would not want people bothering him at all. But since Harry was a lot different than other children his age, he didn't know if his reaction would be everyone's reaction. And Neville was like the polar opposite of him, so he really didn't know if sticking around would make the boy comforted or uncomfortable.

Leaving it up to chance, Harry decided to go and get Neville's things. If anything, he could at least wait for the boy so they could walk to class together.

It was times like this that he wished that he wasn't so socially inept. But that was the Dursleys fault so he could not really take any blame for it. Not that Harry would take any blame for in the first place.

* * *

Harry found himself staring at a woman named Amelia Bones. She had come to school in search of him. Professor Flitwick had brought them both to his office and then departed, leaving Harry with the woman.

He recognised her of course. She was the woman who had lead the group of people into the Headmaster's office a few weeks prior. Susan Bones had called her 'auntie'.

"Mr. Potter, I am Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I m also the aunt to one of your classmates, Susan Bones."

Harry nodded to show his understanding.

"The Wizengamot convened yesterday to discuss the situation regarding your possible adoption. There were many arguments once the reports and your letter were read through. What would have been a pretty simple case, was exacerbated by your letter.

"It stirred up a lot of grief within some people, and it was what almost started several duels. While I appreciate your candid attitude, I have to inform you that such bold accusations could get you into legal trouble later on. If you were a normal child it would fall to your parents, but you were an orphan, and the Heir to an extremely old family, meaning you can be brought into legal situations because of your responsibilities."

Harry wasn't exactly sure what she was saying, though it sounded as if someone wanted to sue him and probably could because he was the Potter Heir.

"Though I will also thank you because your letter brought some questionable situations into the light and they are being looked into at present. So some good came from it at least. I will have to ask you to refrain from starting anything else with your letters.

"As I am now your guardian, I will require you to show me all letters you wish to send out. You have yet to be educated in how to properly handle those of high status and not only will it damage your reputation, but it will now damage my family as well."

Harry was one part annoyed and one part thankful. He'd gotten one of the two families that he had wanted. On the other note, he was now confined.

She must have noticed his displeasure, because she shrugged and said, "I decided that taking you on as my ward would be better than leaving you as a ward of the Ministry." She leaned across the desk, eyes strangely fixated and serious. "Trust me, Mr. Potter, you do _not_ want to let the Ministry have control over your life. More so than what they already possess.

"Not everyone is good hearted and with you being a ward of the Ministry, you'd be giving not only the Minister control over your life and decisions, but also Chief Warlock Dumbledore and certain department Heads. And some of those people are not those you'd wish to have control over your affairs. Basically, it was safest for everyone that you be adopted by me."

The very thought of letting people he didn't even know, have legal control over him, bothered him to no end. But he had to concur that her adopting him was the best for him.

"Thank you," he told the woman, truly grateful at her actions, even if he would prefer not to be tethered to anyone. He was lucky, and he knew it.

She smiled, and the wrinkles around her eyes made her appear much younger, instead of older. As if she was a person used to smiling.

"It was my pleasure. I came to speak with you about arrangements for when you come to the manor in the summer and possibly over the hols."

The rest of their time was spent discussing Harry's placement in this new family and what would be expected of him from now on. On the bright side, there was a personal library in the manor, meaning that his studies would not be interrupted in the summer.

So in a way, things were still going pretty well.

Now all he had to do was find out what was wrong with Neville, and everything would be fine... ish.

* * *

 **A/N: Another is done!**

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End file.
